


Family business

by AlesiaM



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-21 11:35:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21298793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlesiaM/pseuds/AlesiaM
Summary: Chris asks Nikiforov for an unusual gift - the best shoes in the world.
Relationships: Christophe Giacometti/Victor Nikiforov, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 12
Kudos: 9





	Family business

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my language. But I like to try new things and share my stories. I do not know what will come of it, but I hope to please you. Translates google :)))
> 
> What is considered a “sad ending” if Victor is happy?

“ - You said stars are worlds, Tess?  
\- Yes.  
\- And all the same as ours?  
\- I don’t know, but I think the same.” Sometimes they look like apples from our apple tree. Almost all are beautiful, strong, but there are also rotten ones.  
\- And what do we live on - beautiful or rotten?  
\- On rotten."  
Thomas Hardy "Tess of the d'Herberville Family"

The muffled measured blows of a bell ringing rang out over the city, rolling along the small winding streets of Lausanne, reflected from the sloping roofs of shops and ascended skyward, dissolving in the azure expanse of heaven. The weather promised to be clear and sunny, despite the fact that the calendar was January.

Victor neatly stretched in bed, trying not to wake his partner. It was an early hour and the two of them would still have to sleep and sleep, given that they had fallen asleep with Chris only in the morning. But Victor slept, woke up with the first rays of a gloomy winter sun, to the sound of the bells of St. Francis. Wonderful! For a long time he did not feel so rested. Truly, so that the soul and body. It was nice to just lie in bed, knowing that you don’t need anywhere, and at your side a loved one sniffs quietly. Chris ... Victor, trying not to disturb a fragile dream, turned to the Swiss and froze in shock, examining the beautiful and sensual features of his pretty face. Now, when Giacometti was sleeping, his face was relaxed, if not innocent, the small wrinkles in the corners of his eyes were smoothed out - and where did they come from? - and on the cheeks fell a thick shadow of long dark eyelashes.

\- Do you like it? - a hoarse voice from sleep led out of thought, Nikiforov even flinched in surprise. So he lost his thoughts that he did not notice how Chris woke up.

\- Аdmire,- Victor confirmed artlessly, touching a stranger’s face: gently slipping his fingers along the cheekbones line, giving an innocent and unpretentious caress, timidly outlined a line of sensual quivering lips. However, Chris immediately grabbed his hand, covering the curve of his palm with light short kisses. Like a flap of a butterfly’s wings on his skin. It seemed to Victor that he was purring right now from this caress, even though he was not a cat.

\- I missed you ... - Chris releases his wrist and slips his lips all over his palm, reverently kissing small bumps and bumps. - By our meetings, crazy nights. Remember how we annealed in Milan?

\- Oh yeah! Forget it! Yes, they should have given us the annual VIP for such a performance. You were incredible in an angel costume, my depraved Cupid!

Victor laughs habitually, but Chris’s every word falls right into his frozen heart, melting a thin invisible crust of perennial ice. Chris is warm and cozy, it smells of the sea and sandy beaches of Jamaica and the Riviera, it smells of sunny Mediterranean and a little bit bitter Swiss chocolate. I want to snuggle up to this wide chest and forget about everything in the world: about competitions, training, Feltsman. Here, in Lausanne, Giacometti’s hometown, they are just two ordinary, unremarkable people, with their sorrows and joys, needs. Chris called out, and Victor waved right after Barcelona, sending Yuri to Japan. I wrote something about the new training system, about coaching leave, about new techniques. Nikiforov himself didn’t remember what Katsuki was saying then, he only remembered the unusual, long-forgotten feeling of trepidation and warmth in his chest from the ticket lying in his purse.

\- I missed you too, - Nikiforov replies, - I'm sorry I kept you waiting.

The blonde smoothly glides his hands over someone else's body, not without pleasure feeling the relief of strong steel muscles under the fingertips. Unable to rest, leaves a light teasing kiss under the collarbone. The reward is immediately lost the breath of Chris. Barely noticeable, but Victor notices. Feels.

\- А cigarette? - Chris speaks out of his arms and reaches for the bedside table. - Like then. Coffee and cigarettes.

Nikiforov agrees and takes one cigarette, lights it, exhaling the bluish clouds of smoke slowly melting under the ceiling. Chris is easy. As then, as now and as always. No need to put on another mask a la "incomparable Nikiforov" and think about your image. You can just be yourself and Chris will understand, accept.

\- And what's next? - Giacometti takes a cigarette from his hands, making a shallow puff. Smoke one for two. Indirect kiss. Funny and romantic. - Why did you leave with him?

\- Why? - Victor is unpleasant to this topic, but he must answer. - I probably wanted to see Eros. I don’t know, Chris. Katsuki was so unimaginable, courageous, liberated in my memory. There was fire in him.

\- He had alcohol in him, Vitya.

\- Yes, alcohol, - Victor agrees, - but not only. He was so ... incredible. I thought he would be my deliverance. Will understand me.

\- He gave you a ring, - jealous notes sound in Giacometti's voice, and this pleasantly warms Nikiforov’s icy heart.

\- Ah, that is ... - the Russian looks with interest and a certain perplexity at the golden rim on his own finger. - Just a talisman. Yuuri bought either for luck, or in gratitude. I dont know. Нe put on before the Grand Prix.

\- You promised to marry him!

\- You never know what I promised! - the old joke was recalled to the place. - Нe lose. Silver Not gold. Chris, do you have any idea how I fucked up with him? I pulled, dragged, encouraged, wiped his tears. I left my career because of him! You know what it means for a skater to skip a season. And what is all this for? For the sake of unfortunate silver?

\- So you haven't fucked him? - Chris, as always, looks at the root.

\- Yes where is it! - evil brushes off Nikiforov. - Chris, can you imagine that I couldn't fuck? Well, you really need to try hard, - in the voice of Nikiforov an undisguised bitter resentment sounds. - And he could. He escaped, fenced off. And he looks at me with naive eyes. He believes in friendship! Well, isn't it funny? I'm about 30 soon, and he offers me friendship, hold on to the hands, Chris!

Victor pulls back slightly, his body pounds finely from overwhelming emotions. An unpleasant tremor quickly delivers the tips of his fingers, and he hides behind another cigarette. Nervously crushes a half-empty bundle in his hands.

\- You think I haven't tried? These "Yuuri, let's sleep together," "Yuuri, take a walk along the beach?" Do you know how much it was? Count off! - Nikiforov sighs woefully, continued to pour out his soul. - I then kissed him in Beijing. Right on the ice, in front of the cameras. I thought everything was working out. But no, Vitenka, did not deserve it. Come on again. How tired of that, Chris! Naturally tired of this never-ending kindergarten. - Victor finally looks at Chris, plunging into the beckoning green of other people's eyes. - Am I such a nasty lover?

Instead of answering all questions: trying to instill a lost confidence, return the sparkle to beautiful blue eyes.

\- Chris, let's meet? - words suddenly fly off with Victor’s lip, hanging in the morning silence of the room. But he does not mind. It seems that he did something sensible, right. True

\- Well, I don’t know, - Giacometti frowns jokingly, - you really hurt me then with your act. I just don’t do it, - Chris overturns Nikiforov when he is sitting on the pillow, and that he is in distress, thoughtfully pressing his finger to his lower lip, giving the Russian an appraising look. - Hmm ... What would you ask for? ..

\- I can do a blowjob,- the blond prompts.

\- Yes, Nikiforov, you certainly will not die of modesty, - Chris chuckles maliciously, - but no. I'm sorry. I want something more substantial.

Victor sarcastically arches an eyebrow, sending his lover the most seductive look:

\- Can you think? You have no idea what you are giving up.

\- And who said that I refuse your wonderful mouth? - Chris covers his body with hot teasing kisses. - These are shoes.

\- Shoes?

\- Well, yes, men's shoes. You are Nikiforov! Your family is engaged in this business while you are skating. - The critical findings, which are gradually disappearing, are lower and lower.

\- You say like my mother! .. - Victoria barely managed to tie a couple of words while Chris traces the next track of kisses on his hips.

\- Thanks for the compliment, but I'm serious. I saw your shoes on the Internet. Are they really so unique and so unashamedly expensive?

\- We have different linear shoes ... - Victor weaves his fingers into other people's silky hair, setting the desired rhythm of sweet movements. - "Lux", made to order for special customers. Chris! .. Ah! .. Family recipe ...

Giacometti shows: - I want the most expensive, unique shoes. So that no one had such, only me. Do you bear cub?

Nikiforova, touching the piercing blue eyes. A moment, and everything disappears, as if there was nothing. Victor smiles encouragingly at Chris, saying that such a fucked guy doesn't mind any shoes. Let Chris wait for a present.

***  
Victor, for the umpteenth time in the last fifteen minutes, casts a worried glance at the table laden with various snacks. I want to endure, correct, bringing the finishing touches to today's perfect dinner. Wanting to overcome anxiety, Victor repeatedly moves objects on the table, achieving the ideal location: he moves the gravy boat, checks the forks, rearranges the bottle of collection wine. Everything should be perfect.

And yet, where is Yuuri? Is it okay to get there? Perhaps Nikiforov should have gone to meet him at the station, but Yuuri was so stubborn. He said that he did not want to burden, that he would be able to get himself. Yes, this is not Moscow, but just a small town, lost in the vast expanses of Siberia, but Yuri can handle it. Victor only needs to believe more in him. On these recollections, the corner of Viktor’s mouth involuntarily jerks down: “Yuuri, Yuuri ... If you knew how I wanted to believe in you, to support you, but you wouldn’t allow it. Well, so be it. ”

Painfully, I want to smoke, to breathe in saving blue smoke, clogging their lungs to failure, but Victor pulls himself - Yuuri does not like the smell of cigarettes. And he really wants to like it. And yet, why dissemble - Victor does not like any, at least fragrance with roses, at least a week's fume. The result is one.

A soft timid knock on the door interrupts Victor’s thoughts and makes him quickly rise and go to the door, to open it. On the threshold stands Yuuri. All such disheveled after a long trip (oh yes, Victor has climbed far!), In his usual blue down jacket and funny faded scarf. Voiced slap in the face of Victor's sophisticated taste.

\- Yuuri! Finally! - Victor rakes the young man in a tight hug, leaving a fake sweet kiss on his cheek. But Yuri and that much. Even through a thick layer of outerwear, Nikiforov feels other people's shoulders stiffen. - Is everything all right? How did you get there?

Katsuki pulls back a little, casting a guilty glance of chocolate eyes at Nikiforov.

\- Thanks, Vitya. I got there normally, there’s a wonderful taxi, - unties the scarf, takes off her outer clothes and goes into the decorated room. - Are you celebrating something?

\- Not “you”, but “we”, Yuuri! - Victor is a charm. - I love when everything is beautiful. Today is a special day, why not make it beautiful too? Do you like lilies? - Victor points to a lush bouquet of snow-white lilies decorating the table. - They are beautiful! I wanted just such. White and innocent. You won’t believe it, but in the morning I had to go around more than one store to find these. Everywhere only yellow for some reason remained.

\- I ... I don’t quite understand, Victor, - Yuuri looks at the table with some embarrassment and turns to her coach. - Why am I here? You know, I couldn’t do it. I could not give you gold.

\- Uh ... baby, - Victor easily presses his hand to her trembling lips. Or is it his own fingers trembling? Impossible. He bends slightly and kisses the Japanese on the lips through his palm. The only kiss he was allowed. - Not today, Yuuri, please. Be my welcome guest.

Yuuri nods bewilderedly and walks to the table, sitting down on one of the chairs. Like some kind of illusory dream - blink and everything will disappear. But the young man does not want to wake up if Victor is always with him in this dream. It is easy to believe in a sweet deception when Victor smiles so warmly, so gently touches his outstretched hand, holding it in his palms for longer than it should be. Yuuri knows that he disappointed his coach, as if something was supposed to happen between them, but that did not happen. Or is it still not lost?

Victor today is more charming than ever. A thousand bright suns shine in his smile and blue eyes. Another soulless mask, one of many, but for some reason people believe it. Believes and Yuuri, melting under the affectionate gaze of attentive eyes. Such a cute, naive boy!

Brunet timidly takes a glass of red wine extended by Victor, takes a drink, savoring the taste: - Almond? - a slight smile touches the lips of a young man. - Thanks, Vit. I'm glad to be with you today, it's a wonderful evening. Thank you.

Yuuri smells of the salty ocean, domestic warmth and unfulfilled hopes, but only Victor doesn’t care. In the eyes of Victor, the azure of all the glaciers of the world. He sold his heart a long time ago, combining the word "Eternity" from the remaining fragments. Victor smells of decay and very little wood glue.

Everything ends quickly. He rises to a large metal table. The scalpel exploded, cast a last look at the once beloved facial features. Victor leans over and aims for the last time on his cold, clean forehead. Judas' tender kiss.

However, nothing personal. Just a family business.

***

A month later, he meets Chris in Moscow. In the end, gives the promised gift. Chris is completely delighted: he turns around in shoes in his hands, looks at a bizarre drawing, passes his fingers over his toes, marveling at the amazing softness of the skin.

\- They are beautiful, Vit'! Just amazing! This skin ... just something! - Christophe happily spins in front of the mirror, examining new shoes. - Are they unique? As i requested?

Victor happily laughs and assures that these shoes are really unique. There are no more.

Nikiforov can be trusted.


End file.
